


Paper Rings

by silverdarling



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Married Couple, Married Life, Mutual Pining, Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22692661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverdarling/pseuds/silverdarling
Summary: A series of drabbles about Maxwell Beaumont and my TRR MC, Evan Valentine, and their life together.
Relationships: Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sometime in book 3 Maxwell says something about having jello shots at him and mc's wedding. since we never got to do that, i wrote this cause the idea was cute and i was a liiitle disappointed it didn't actually happen.

It had been Maxwell's idea. He'd made an offhand comment, really, but Evan ran with it. Afterall, it was _their_ wedding, and she was going to make sure her husband had whatever he wanted, even if they had to sneak off by themselves to make it happen.

They'd decided to wait until later in the evening when everyone was buzzed enough off the free champagne that they wouldn't notice the bride and groom slipping away for a moment alone.

Taking care not to be spotted, Evan slips out of the reception hall and ducks into an alcove, willing herself invisible to everyone except her husband.

She closes her eyes and basks in the peace of the quiet hallway, her first real moment alone all day. Absentmindedly, Evan gazes down at her hand and admires the glittering ring on her finger, a fond smile playing on her full lips. A few minutes later, the large double doors open, spilling sounds of revelry from their wedding reception out into the hall, and Maxwell steps out. He spots her immediately and strolls over, a spring in his step and a grin on his face.

He drops a kiss to her cheek and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You got the goods? Or did you ask me out here for something else?" He says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, drawing a laugh out of her.

"I don't believe we have that kind of time, Mr. Beaumont."

"I think you'd be pleasantly surprised at what I can accomplish in five minutes in an empty hallway, Mrs. Beaumont," Maxwell says with a wink.

"I'm sure I would be," Evan says with a chuckle. "and I intend to find out later, but for now, here," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out two plastic shot cups full of lime green jello. She hands him one.

Maxwell gladly accepts his shot. "I still can't believe you did this."

"I made you a promise, didn't I?" Evan says, grinning. "Now drink! Or, uh, slurp, I guess."

"Wait! We can't drink without a toast," Maxwell says, gently grabbing her wrist to stop her. Evan raises her cup and tips it in his direction. "To you, my love. You're looking _very_ fine in that suit and I can't wait to get you out of it later."

He laughs and raises his cup. "To _us_ ," he says. "I've never really believed in soulmates, but I know that you're mine. I love you, Evan, and I can't wait to start our adventure together."

Evan grabs him by his lapels and pulls him to her, her lips capturing his in a lingering kiss. When they part, he presses a kiss to her temple.

"Cheers," Maxwell taps their cups together and they knock them back. 

He pulls a face, his expression somewhere between surprise and disgust. "Did Drake make these?"

"How'd you know?"

"As soon as it hit my tongue I had flashbacks to my 18th Birthday party."

Evan laughs. "They were a little strong, weren't they?"

Faintly, the band can be heard from inside the reception hall, striking up a pretty song they both know by heart. "Sound like they're playing our song," Maxwell says. "Shall we?" He offers her his arm, and she accepts it with a smile.

"Lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set during liam and madeleine's wedding shower, obvs. i've been replaying, can you tell?

Evan has had a damn long day. Flying to LA, tracking down the man who had helped set her reputation on fire, and flying back to New York had been exhausting, but here she is, sitting in an impeccably decorated ballroom, waiting for Tariq's statement to hit Cordonian news stations.

The anticipation is killing her, and she can't help but give in to all of the nervous habits that have been trained out of her over the past several months. She bounces her leg up and down under the table in a desperate attempt to try and burn off some of the nervous energy coursing through her body.

Taking notice of her restlessness, Maxwell leans in close, his voice low. "Hey, you okay?"

She nods. "Yeah, I'm just a little nervous. Shouldn't Tariq's statement have been published by now? What if they ran into traffic on the way and didn't make it in time?" She brings her hand up to her mouth to chew on her thumbnail and he stops her, his fingers curling gently around her wrist and bringing her hand to rest in his lap.

"Evan, everything is fine, I promise. Any minute now, every phone in this room is going to light up and everyone here will know the truth. Besides, do you really think Justin would let a little traffic stop him? That guy's so committed to clearing your name, I bet he'd carry Tariq there on his back if he had to."

Evan laughs, and he can see some of the tension leave her shoulders. "That's true. Thank you, Maxwell. You always know how to make me feel better."

Before he can respond, he hears his phone buzz. Then another phone, then another, and soon every phone in the room has joined in, the room erupting into a chorus of chimes and vibrations.

"If you would please _silence_ those," Madeleine commands from her spot on the stage, but no one is listening. Anything else she may have to say is quickly drowned out by a flurry of whispers as everyone in the room turns to look at Evan.

Underneath the table, her hand is still clasped in his. Maxwell laces his fingers through hers and gives her a comforting squeeze.

"I'm right here," he murmurs.

She flashes him a smile and squeezes his hand back tightly. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mom!"

Evan glances up from the melon she's cutting. "Yes, sweethea-" her words break off into a gasp at the sight in front of her.

Isla stands in the doorway to the kitchen, beaming brighter than the sun, her hair chopped up to her chin. Evan has to restrain herself from clapping a hand over her mouth in horror.

She takes a deep breath, letting it flow through her, and collects herself. "What, um, what happened to your hair, darling?"

"I cut it!" Isla says, shaking her head so that her dark hair swishes out around her. She looks incredibly pleased with herself.

Evan beckons her daughter to her and crouches down, grabbing the ends of her hair in her fingers to get a look at the damage. One side is a fair bit shorter than the other, and the edges are jagged and uneven.

"I can see that, but why?"

Isla shrugs. "I don't wanna wear it like Anya's."

"You wanted to be different from your sister?" Evan asks, and she nods.

"Okay. That's fine, but you know, baby, you really shouldn't cut your hair by yourself, alright? It's dangerous, you could get hurt."

Isla smiles at her. "It's okay, mommy! I was safe! I used these." Isla opens her palm and presents her mother with a pair of safety scissors. Safety scissors that Evan had bought. How the hell was she supposed to know they cut more than paper?

Evan makes eye contact with her daughter, smiling up at her brightly, her two front teeth missing, and she cannot contain the laugh that bubbles out of her throat.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?"

Isla nods and twists a strand of her hair around her finger. "Do you like it?"

"I do! But it's just a little uneven. Why don't you let me straighten it up a bit?"

"Will you make it look all fancy like yours?"

Evan grins. "Of course."

—

Twenty minutes later, after working some serious magic with the scissors and a quick pass over with a curling rod, her hair is fixed. More than fixed, it's actually cute. You can't even tell that she cut it herself.

Evan hands her a hand mirror. "What do you think?"

Isla examines her reflection and grins as though Christmas has come early. "I love it!"

"I'm glad!"

"Can I go show Aunt Hana?"

"Of course, darling."

Isla hops up off Evan's vanity stool and throws herself at her mother, wrapping her little arms around her middle and squeezing her into as much of a bear hug that she could give.

Evan squeezes her back and pats her head lovingly, dropping a kiss to her forehead before she runs off.

Isla nearly collides with Maxwell on her way out, sidestepping him at the last second.

"Hi, daddy! Bye, daddy!"

"Bye, Isles."

He stares after her, wide-eyed, then turns his gaze to his wife. "What happened to her hair? There was so much more of it this morning!"

Evan merely sighs and scrubs a hand over her face. "Safety scissors."

"Safety scissors?! Seriously?"

"I know, right? Who the hell knew they could cut hair? Besides your daughter, I mean."

Maxwell wraps his arms around her waist from behind and rests his chin on her shoulder. "Oh, I see how it is. When she cuts off all her hair with safety scissors, she's _my_ daughter, huh?"

She shoots him a grin in the mirror. "Well, _I_ certainly never did anything like that."

"Says the woman who bungee jumped off a balcony with a garden hose tied around her ankles."

Evan snorts out a laugh. "Okay, maybe she inherited her poor impulse control from both of us."

He hums in agreement. "Her hair looked cute, though. If this whole duchess thing doesn't pan out, I think you'd have a lucrative career as a hairstylist."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Slowly, Maxwell begins to sway from side to side, and Evan brings her hands to rest on top of his, entwining their fingers.

She settles into his embrace and sighs contentedly. "Kids, huh?"

"Uh-huh." Maxwell presses a kiss to her shoulder and she feels him smile. "Let's have another one."

She turns in his arms and cups his face, giving him an affectionate pat on the cheek.

"Oh, Max. Not on your life."

He laughs and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"How about we get another dog, then?"

"It's a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for reference, isla is about five here, and anya is their firstborn child, annabelle, who's around eight. anyway, this was fun! in my head max and evan end up with three kids, and hopefully i'll get to write more about their little family in the future!


End file.
